I Won't Give Up
by Writing4MySoul
Summary: While visiting with Rachel after she returns from Harvard, Mike never expected to meet Harvey Specter, hot-shot closer who's willing to do anything to close him. It's clear from the start where this is going to go, but will it be allowed to last?


"I still don't understand why I'm here with you, Rach. I mean, Pearson Hardman would be stupid _not_ to have you."

"I know, I know," Rachel mumbles, her nervousness obvious. "Now I understand why you put off going to school for so long."

Mike rolls his eyes. "Yeah, so I could stay out of the bullshit that society says we have to do to be 'truly' happy."

Rachel laughs as the elevator lets them off at their destination. _Swanky_ , Mike thinks as he gets a good look around the floor. Huge offices and conference rooms adorn the entire floor, floor-to-ceiling glass acting as walls for all the rooms. Mike is still gawking as Rachel grabs his wrist to drag him in the direction of a beautiful redhead sitting outside one of the larger offices. Now normally, Mike would (unsuccessfully) try to get a date with her, but all of those thoughts flew out of the window when he looked in the office. Because inside that office was quite possibly the most gorgeous man Mike had ever seen. Slicked-back brown hair, healthy tan, muscular (but not _too_ muscular, from what the restricting three-piece showed him), and handsome in the way Greek gods once were. As if sensing that someone was staring at him, he looked up. When their eyes connected, Mike's swears his heart stopped for a moment.

The man's eyes are the color of mahogany when the sun hits it just right. They bore to blue eyes, like they saw every crack, every scar, every demon, and we're still entranced by what they saw. _Great_ , Mike thinks, _this feels like every yaoi manga come to life_. Feeling like a coward, Mike breaks eye contact first, trying to refocus on Rachel and the ginger. And sweet baby Christ, this woman could make the devil cry she wanted to, her sharp wit and sharper tongue impressing Mike. The only person he knew (besides his Grammy) with those qualities was Rachel... though that's skill seems to have escaped her as Rachel stammered and blushed at whatever the receptionist had said. It took Mike a second to see what was happening. He smirked. _Way to go, Rachel_.

Mike smiles and turned away to give them privacy, only to smack into someone. Not just anyone Mike realized when he looked up. He had just smacked right into Mahogany Eyes. "Oh shit, I am _so_ sorry," Mike says, blushing like crazy.

The older man blinked. "It's fine, he responds and _Jesus fucking Christ_. His voice was was as smooth as whiskey, and had this deep timbre to it. _Shit, I'm screwed_.

"Harvey," Redhead uttered, causing Mahogany Eyes to look at her. _Harvey_. Not a common name, but it suited a unique man. "This is Rachel Zane, the girl who called to interview as your associate." She glances as Mike, winking at him when Harvey glances at Rachel. _Winks_. What in the actual hell.

"Hello, Rachel." He looks at Mike. "Then who are you?"

"Um," Mike replies eloquently. "I'm Mike. I'm here to support Rachel."

Harvey raises an eyebrow, the action reminding Mike of Spock. "Are the rumors about me that scary?"

Mike opens his mouth to reply, but in that moment he realizes that Harvey's hands had on Mike's hips the entire time. The blonde blushed hard as he tried to ignore this little tidbit. "Horrifying," Mike deadpans. "I heard you you rip your enemies beating hearts from their chest with your bare hands."

The lawyer chuckled. "Well, I can promise you this: I won't take Rachel's heart unless she gives me a reason to."

Rachel gulps behind them as Mike laughs at her expense. "Trust me when I say this, Mr. Specter, that Rachel isn't an idiot."

Another eyebrow raise. "Just Harvey is fine."

"Ok, Just Harvey."

A snort escapes Harvey's lips as he releases his hold on Mike's hips. (Mike won't admit until later how much he misses the warmth of those hands.) "Rachel, if you would please follow me into my office. Donna, keep Mike company."

The redhead, Donna, nodding while smirking. _Why do I feel like I've been fed to the sharks?_ Mike thought, nervous to be alone with Donna. Rachel still looks like she's about to hyperventilate, so Mike gave her his biggest, dorkiest grin he could be muster. She laughs, the tension leaving her shoulders. With this newfound confidence, Rachel enters his office and sits in the chair directly in front of Harvey's desk. Harvey follows, sitting behind his desk and looking like the poster-boy of sophistication.

Mike watches as Harvey asks Rachel several questions (which Mike couldn't hear because of the now-closed door), but whatever it was re-tensed his friend's shoulders. He sighed, leaning his hip against the side of Donna's desk. _Why is she so nervous?_ He thinks as he watches the pair conversing. _She's one of the smartest people I know. They would be stupid not to take her on, Harvey especially. She's a hard worker, willing to do anything to make sure justice is served to the right person._ Hopefully those rumors about Harvey were true. As the best closer in New York, he should be able to see Rachel's potential. _Unlike her father_ , Mike thought bitterly.

Suddenly Mike's phone rings, breaking him from his thoughts. "Hello?" he asks the caller, picking up on the second ring.

"Mike?" a familiar voice whispers, sounding panicked.

"Gavin? What's wrong?" Mike asked, fear making his blood run ice-cold. Donna gave him a worried look, but Mike shook his head.

"It's your grandma―"

"I'll be there in five," Mike cut him off, hanging up his phone before Gavin could get another word in edgewise. He turned to Donna. "Tell Rachel that there was an emergency and I'll meet up with her later. And can you please tell Harvey it was nice to meet him? Along with you, of course. Thanks." With that he dashed to the elevator, heedless of the two pairs of brown eyes tracking him.

Fortunately an elevator opened as he arrived there. Mike somehow waited patiently for everyone to get out. When he was finally inside with the doors closed, the young man began to lose his cool, his foot unconsciously tapping the ground. When the doors opened on the ground floor, Mike felt a small strike of pleasure when he ran out of the elevator like a bat out of hell. Normally he would appreciate giving some corporate douchebags a good scare with his second-hand black tee, Converse, blue-jean glory, but now was not a normal time.

When he got to the street, Mike immediately whistled for a taxi. It took a few minutes, but he managed to finally flag one down. As the cab driver pulled away from Pearson Hardman, Mike's legs began bouncing up and down in a panic. _She's ok, she's ok, she's ok_ , he repeated the mantra in his head. When they finally arrived at his grandma's apartment complex, Mike threw a wad of bills in the front seat. He practically rammed the door down in his haste, taking the stairs two at a time. Gavin, their neighbor, was waiting for him outside of Grammy's apartment. "What's wrong?! Is she alright?!" Mike asked in a rush, about to open the door when Gavin grabbed his elbow. "What?" Mike asked him.

"She said she slipped on some spilt water. But Mike... there was no water on the ground," Gavin told him, his eyes sad.

Mike blinked. And blinked again. _Oh God._ He swallowed. "Thanks, Gavin. I'll see you later, ok?" Gavin's response was lost on deaf ears, and Mike was grateful at how understanding his neighbor was being. He quietly opened the door, taking a moment to study his Grammy. She was watching 'Downton Abbey', smiling at whatever was happening on screen. Mike waited until a commercial before making his presence known. He smiled when she did, answering her questions about Rachel when prompted, all the while thinking about how the hell he could afford the help she needed.


End file.
